


Babysitter Change-Up

by andachippedcup



Series: Domestic Belle [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup





	Babysitter Change-Up

It was his fault, really. He should have specified.

When she’d told him she wanted something to do during the day while he tended the shop, he should have suggested places she could apply to. The library. Her father’s flower shop (he’d have been willing to swallow his pride and suggest that instead of _this_ ). Granny’s Diner. The school.  _Anything_  would have been better, really. Except perhaps the newspaper or the Mayor’s office but Belle never would have gone for either of those jobs even if Regina or Sidney had offered them to her.

No, not his little Belle. She’d heard she could work if she wanted to and she’d run with the idea.

So it was that Belle, who had lingered behind in the diner to chat with Ruby following their weekly Wednesday lunch dates, had bumped into Ashley who had mentioned needing a sitter for the weekend. Belle still hadn’t explained all the details of how the conversation had gone.

All he knew was that when he’d come home from work that evening and walked into the kitchen, he’d been greeted by a chubby cheeked baby running amok amongst the pots and pans on the kitchen tile. It was covered in what appeared to be squashed banana and unless he was very much mistaken, cheerio fragments.

“You’re home!” A breathless Belle had beamed and darted forward to greet him with a quick kiss and a smile.

“Am I? I worried I walked into the wrong kitchen.” He responded in confusion, his eyes still trained on the babe. “Tell me dearie, did we have a child I was unaware of or are we collecting strays out of trash bins now?” He queried and though it was spoken like a quip, the flatness of his voice made it plain that he wasn’t exactly entertained.

“I offered to take care of the baby for Ashley and Sean.” Belle explained as she stooped to pick the baby up from amongst the pots and rose to show her to him. “Say hello to Alexandra.” She beamed and held the little girl up so he could see her properly.

“No dearie, if we talk to it, it’ll think it can stay.” He explained and scooted a few steps back, nearly tripping over a stray frying pan on the floor. Belle rolled her eyes in response and shifted the child to her hip, holding the girl with one hand while she cleared the pots and pans with the other. “And since when do you babysit?” He asked, half afraid of her answer.

“I’m not babysitting.” Belle rolled her eyes at him in exasperation. “That hardly sounds professional. I’m a provider of child care services.” She corrected him brightly and he groaned.

“So the bloody thing is going to stay, isn’t it?” He whimpered unhappily. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rum. She’s only staying the night. Sean and Ashley will be back in the morning.” Belle explained nonchalantly, though he froze as her words reached him.

 _Wait_.

“It’s staying  _overnight_?!” He exclaimed, staring at the little girl in dismay. Alexandra looked up at him with a banana-goo encrusted smile and cooed happily in Belle’s arms.

“Yes.  _She’s_  staying the night.” Belle corrected him. “Sean and Ashley need the break and really, she’s just  _one_ baby. She can’t be that difficult, can she?” Belle commented innocently and he only groaned.

Really, it wasn’t Belle’s fault. She’d been of high enough station that, in the other world, she’d never really been around infants or seen them tended to. She hadn’t seen the nursemaids run ragged by newborns or the weary tenders of toddlers. Belle knew frightfully little of children for someone currently responsible for one.

“Fine, but it’s your responsibility, dearie. Not mine.” He clarified as he stepped past her and the baby. “I don’t want any part in this nonsense.” He chortled.

——-

His firm stance on non-involvement didn’t last long.

He’d been reading the newspaper in his study when he’d heard Belle calling his name from the living room. With a sigh, he folded it up (really, he wasn’t that engrossed anyway; Sidney’s ‘investigative reporting’ left much to be desired) and off he went in search of his wife.

Belle was standing in the middle of the room, wee Alexandra held out before her with a face purely comical in nature. Already suspecting what the problem was, he halted in the entryway of the room, an amused smirk dancing on his face.

“You called, love?”

Belle turned to look at him, positively stricken.

“I don’t think I was supposed to feed her bananas and Cheerios after all.” She whispered, horrified.

“Oh? And why’s that, Belle dearie?” He queried, trying to keep the mirth out of his voice and only half succeeding.

“I think I broke the baby.” She whispered. “She smells like…like  _death_.” Belle choked out, looking from him to the girl and back again.

And he tried to be serious, really he did. But the way that Belle was panicking and overreacting and just her  _description_ was so entertaining that he could not hold back the howl of laughter that exploded out of him. Belle blanched at the sound but once she’d had the time to process that he was laughing  _at her_ the woman seemed less patient regarding his laughter.

“It’s not funny Rum, I think she’s sick. She smells something  _dreadful_.” Belle pressed and he only laughed all the harder. It was some many minutes before he’d composed himself enough to look at his wife without smiling or dissolving into laughter but at last, he addressed her concerns.

“Belle dearie, the tyke’s fine. She just, ah…  _soiled_  her diaper.” Belle blinked at him with wide eyes.

“Are you sure? Rum,  _smell her_ , really it’s foul. I don’t think that’s what it is-” Belle objected and tried to bring the baby closer to him but he backpedaled quickly.

“I believe you dearie but trust me, that’s what it is. You’ll need to change her diaper and clean her up.” He grinned and Belle looked at the baby with a touch of fright.

“H-how do I do that, exactly?”

“I’d check the diaper bag for fresh cloths dearie and then… do your best.” He was  _not_ getting involved. He’d said quite plainly the child was hers to care for.

“Oh Rum, you  _must_ help me. I don’t want to mess it up.” She pleaded and he shook his head, trying to be resolute.

“Oh no little lamb, I quite distinctly recall saying that the child was yours to care for. Not mine.” He insisted but Belle was no pushover.

“Rum! I can’t mess this up. I’ve never changed a diaper before. You have! Show me how!” She pranced forward, baby in tow and he was running out of hallway to back away from her with.

“No dearie, I’ve never changed a diaper in this world before, you’re as wise as I am on the subject.”

“But you at least have  _some_ experience! Teach me!” She demanded, stepping closer still and when he met her eyes he knew he was sunk. There was really no arguing with the girl.

And that was how he wound up with his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, baby powder and diapers and changing pads and baby wipes all around him as Belle looked on, a mixture of amusement and horror on her face.

It seemed that diapers were a very different beast in this world than they’d been in the old one. A fact he found out in short order after discovering that he’d put the diaper on the wrong way at least three times before they had the good sense to use their computer to look up a ‘how to’ guide. After some trial and error, they finally managed to get the tabs on the right way (though it took them a few diapers to get it right).

“That was…” Belle searched her head for the appropriate term, at a loss for words.

“Horrifying?” He interjected as he pumped a few solid servings of hand sanitizer into his outstretched palm. “The next one’s yours. No excuses.” He sniffed and Belle’s eyes grew a little rounder and she stared at the child in her arms with more than a little hesitancy.

Good. That ought to teach her to think twice before babysitting the wee thing again.

Belle ducked her head and nodded sheepishly as they walked to the living room, where he promptly set about starting a fire while Belle occupied herself with the child. It wasn’t until he rose stiffly and dusted off his knees that he caught sight of her.

After all this time living together, he should have been accustomed to having his breath taken away by her but really, this was a new level of beauty even for his little Belle.

She was sitting on the edge of the couch, the baby balanced on her knees and held in place with Belle’s steady hands as she bounced the girl gently. Her hair tumbled in loose, lazy curls down her back and her face positively  _glowed_ in the warm light of the fire. Her smile was full and soft as she murmured nonsense to the babe, which was cooing happily in return.

And it was in that moment that a part of him yearned for the child in her hands to be hers,  _theirs,_ and not just a child on loan from an overeager little cinder-girl and her young husband. He wanted Alexandra to be a brown haired, blue eyed replica of the woman he held so dear. He wanted a child of their own, a product of a love as true as Snow White and her Charming, if not more true.

He wanted his Belle to be a mother.

But he would not ask such a thing of her and certainly if she had wanted such a thing, his brave little Belle would have already found it in her to ask. So, instead he finished settling the logs with an iron poker and once satisfied, seated himself beside her on the couch and wrapped an arm around his wife, content to have her, if nothing else.

——-

They spent some time curled into one another and when the baby began to fuss, Belle moved to comfort her. Before she could, however, he had reached out and plucked the wee one from her grasp and was humming her a soothing refrain as he rocked her gently on his knee.

Belle watched it all unfold, transfixed as her husband seemed to spin magic out of thin air with which to pacify the little girl. Watching him cradle the child protectively in his hands (hands that knew a magic entirely without equal, the magic to rock and soothe, to burp and feed, to change and soothe), Belle felt the dull yearning in the pit of her stomach twist and grow as its roots deepened.

Belle wanted a child. She wanted to feel the magic of a life inside her, wanted to nurture a tiny spirit and watch it grow and learn. She wanted a baby to hold in her arms, one with his wispy brown hair and with a lopsided grin that crinkled its nose just as her husband’s did.

Belle wanted a whole passel of them, little ones running underfoot and filling the vacant rooms of the old Victorian with laughter and warmth. She wanted boys with his kind of devotion and girls with his kind of quick wit.

But Belle also knew that her husband had already known the joys of a child. And he had also known the incomparable heartache of losing a child. Surely if he had wanted another child, he would have said something. But like as not, her husband did not want a son or a daughter to try and replace the boy he’d lost. And Belle, who knew more of Bae than perhaps any other person save her husband, would not inflict that kind of hurt on him by asking for a child. Because he gave her what she wanted without fail and if he knew she yearned for a child, he’d give her one. But if having a child would cause him daily grief, she could not and would not do such a thing to him.

So Belle could only look on as her husband coddled the child they were watching with all the tenderness of a father and she could only imagine what things might have been like in another world.

——-

He wasn’t quite sure what woke him up first: the wailing of the baby or the loud ‘thump’ that immediately followed it. All he knew was that one moment, he’d been fast asleep and the next, he was standing up in the middle of his bedroom, blinking around blearily in the light from the nightstand lamp as he stared at a wriggling lump that was apparently his wife, freshly fallen out of bed.

“Alright, dearie?” He asked groggily as Belle freed herself from the comforter and managed to stand, brushing her tangled strands of hair out of her face.

“The baby…she’s crying.” Belle explained sleepily and he chuckled as he nodded and gently tried to guide his wife back to bed.

“I can tend to the lass.” He tried to persuade her but Belle shook her head stubbornly.

“No, no. I should, I’m the one who agreed to watch her.”

“We’ll both go then.” He compromised and the look on his face left no room for discussion.

Together, clad in fluffy robes and Belle in slippers (his were nowhere to be found thanks to that accursed pet pig of Belle’s. Always stealing his slippers and sleeping in them, the little ham hock), they trudged down the hall. The polished wood floor was cold to the touch and his bare feet soon had him wide awake as they rounded the corner into the guest room where they’d put the baby up for the night. He’d had an old crib in the shop, fortunately, so they’d put the wee one to bed in it and it was in the crib that she now lay crying.

“Startled, by the sounds of it.” He commented, running on autopilot as he picked the baby up and brought her to his chest, rocking her gently with no success.

“How can you tell?” Belle asked, a flicker of interest punching through the sleepy fog surrounding her. He shrugged in return and shouldered the baby with practiced ease as he grabbed her blanket from the crib and laid it out upon the guest bed, smoothing it meticulously before laying the baby across it.

“They sound different.” He explained, pausing to tap the baby on her nose. “Their cries; babies sound a certain way when they cry for food and a different way when they’re scared or need changing or the like. You can tell them apart, after while.” He met her eyes and noticed how she was looking at him intently, so he quickly dropped his eyes and focused on the baby.

“What are you doing with her?”  Belle questioned as she sat down on the bed, watching him curiously.

“Swaddling her.” He replied brightly. “Helps them feel safe. Reminds them of being inside their mums.” He flashed her a grin and tickled Belle’s stomach lightly before he stole a sleepy kiss.

“Would you…could you show me how? Please?” Belle questioned timidly and he stopped suddenly to look at her in surprise.

“How to…to swaddle?” He confirmed and Belle nodded emphatically. He was still for a moment and then returned his gaze to the still fussing baby and undid the work he’d done on the blanket to smooth it down upon the bed again. “Certainly love. Come here then.”

The next ten minutes were spent showing his wife how to go about placing the baby’s head on the fold of the blanket and how to tuck one arm in and one out so that the girl would have some confinement balanced with some freedom. When they’d finished, Alexandra had fallen back to sleep, leaving the couple free to do the same.

As they walked back to their bedroom, Belle slipped her arm through her husband’s and smilingly stood up on her tip toes to press an appreciative kiss to his lips.

“Thank you.” She whispered softly and he looked at her with amused confusion.

“For what, Belle love?” He asked but instead of answering, she simply shook her head and smiled, offering him nothing more to go on as they crawled back into bed and into each other’s arms to enjoy what remained of the night.  


End file.
